


The Look on Your Face

by Kyle_Swings_Blue_and_Gray



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Abuse, Abusive Relationships, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, For a moment everything is okay, Gansy is gone and Ronan can't function, Hate Sex, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Kavinsky is in love with Ronan, M/M, Making Out, POV Ronan Lynch, Pining, Ronan is Probably in love with Gansey, Ronan isn't in love with K, Sexting, Sharing a Bed, Smut, Unrequited Love, it's just a mess, laughing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-08-18 17:05:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16521143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyle_Swings_Blue_and_Gray/pseuds/Kyle_Swings_Blue_and_Gray
Summary: Ronan’s impulse control was out until tomorrow, and Ronan was restless. Searching for something to fill the lonely expanse of Monmouth. Noah wasn’t around, and Adam was working. Ronan briefly thought of driving over to see Blue, but the idea of warm, safe 300 Fox way wars with Ronan’s bitter anger in a way that doesn’t fit. Tonight, Ronan needs something to compliment his frustration, not oppose it.





	The Look on Your Face

Ronan’s impulse control was out until tomorrow, and Ronan was restless. Searching for something to fill the lonely expanse of Monmouth. Noah wasn’t around, and Adam was working. Ronan briefly thought of driving over to see Blue, but the idea of warm, safe 300 Fox way wars with Ronan’s bitter anger in a way that doesn’t fit. Tonight, Ronan needs something to compliment his frustration, not oppose it. 

He hits pool balls off of random surfaces, cracking the glass over a map of Wales, and lost a ball somewhere in the miniature Henrietta. Ronan punched the wall experimentally, not hard enough to break it, but hard enough to judge how hard he would need to punch it to break it. 

From the table, Ronan’s phone buzzes. His first inclination is to ignore it, but his lack of things to break drag him over to the table. Maybe Gansy has decided to ditch the ties and champaign and return early. 

“Hey Princess, thinking bout you.” blazes across the screen, followed by a picture of Kavinsky’s cock, pressed flush against his stomach. Ronan can feel his heart rate pick up, and on an impulse, he picks up the phone. 

“Come over.” He starts, but then hesitates. He hates to sound needy, especially when it comes to Kavinsky, so he deletes it, walking back to his bedroom. He shuts the door, just in case Adam stops by or Gansy returns early. Once sprawled out on his bed, Ronan extracts his dick from his pants. It only takes a few strokes to bring himself to full hardness. He takes the picture, blushing and telling himself he’ll delete the texts once this is over. Kavinsky replies immediately. “Dick III?” Ronan’s fingers hover over the letters. “Out.” He finally sends, then leans back against his pillows, and closes his eyes. What has he done. 

Ronan’s phone buzzes next to him, and the picture of Kavinsky gripping himself through his jeans while pressing down on the gas pedal has Ronan grabbing for his dick. Moments later, Ronan regains his composure, tucking himself in and leaving his room to wait. He prowls Monmouth as he waits, trying to ignore the throbbing between his legs. 

Kavinsky pulls up, parking crookedly beside the BMW. Ronan stalks down to meet him at the door.  
“Don’t touch anything.” He instructs. Kavinsky’s smile cuts like broken glass. 

“Don’t want Dick to find out you had friends over? Don’t worry Lynch. I’m impatient enough to leave his little town model alone.” Ronan turns away, leading Kavinsky inside the place that Kavinsky should never be allowed to enter. In the middle of the room, Ronan turns, and meets Kavinsky’s kiss with his own.

They smash together, and it’s violent and messy and hot. Kavinsky groans, grabbing Ronan’s ass and grinding himself against Ronan’s thigh. He’s hard and leaking in his jeans, and Ronan isn’t faring much better.Kavinsky pushes Ronan back until their stumbling into the bathroom/kitchen, and Ronan chokes out a laugh. 

“What the hell K?” Kavinsky looks momentarily flustered. 

“This isn’t your fucking bedroom Lynch!” Ronan likes Kavinsky flustered. He likes him smiling, and shoving Ronan back against the wall between the mini fridge and the toilet. 

Ronan runs his hands up K’s sides, dragging his shirt off and pressing sloppy kisses to his neck. Kavinsky groans, his hips jerking forward, and when he speaks, his voice is wreaked. “Get your fucking pants off and fuck me, Lynch.” Ronan pulls back, and smiles at Kavinsky, who is panting, his dark hair sticking up at awkward angles. 

“Tell me what you were thinking about when you sent that text.” Kavinsky’s eyes are wild, with lust, or drugs, or both. 

“I was imagining you bending me over the table. Fucking me tell I came with your name on my lips.” Ronan reaches forward to grip K in his pants, and K’s knees nearly buckle. Ronan catches him, wrapping an arm around his waist and nearly dragged him out of the bathroom/kitchen and out into the large open space that was where Gansy lived and studied and dreamed. Ronan shoved Kavinsky toward the table. 

“Finger yourself open. I’m going to watch.” Kavinsky’s eyes burned with a mixed look of lust and challenge, before he extracted a bottle of lube Ronan had known he had on him. Not breaking eye contact, Kavinsky dropped his pants. Ronan felt a hot surge in the pit of his stomach when he saw that Kavinsky was going commando. 

As Kavinsky fingered himself, he dropped his head forward to rest on his forearm, breathing shallowly. When he brought this hand down to grip himself, Ronan started forward to stop him, but froze realizing that K was gripping the base of his cock, and Ronan felt another thrill of arousal rush through as he realized how close K was. 

“That’s enough.” Ronan growled, dropping his pants and stalking forward and grabbing K by the hips. He took only a moment lining up and pushing in, the lewd moan K muffled against his arm forcing Ronan to close his eyes and count to three, somewhat regaining his composer. Ronan started off slowly, thrusting in all the way before pulling out slowly.  
“Hurry up!” K groaned, hips jerking frantically. Ronan smirked, feeling a bit dizzy with power. “Common Lynch, I can take it!” Ronan slammed forward, starting up a brutal pace that had K gasping and writhing under him. Ronan slid a hand down to K’s stomach, raking red lines down his chest and grasping his dick. K came with a choked out “Lynch!” Before slumping against the table. Ronan chased his own orgasm, feeling the tightly coiled spring in his stomach superheat before he burst, burying himself to the hilt with a low groan. 

They stood, slumped against the table for what seemed like an eternity, until K straightened, grabbing Ronan’s forearm, his customary shark’s grin back. It took Ronan a moment to realize where Kavinsky was dragging him, and when he did, he pulled back. 

“No. No way man. We are not doing that.” Kavinsky’s smile only grew, as he continued to tug Ronan towards Gansy’s roughly made bed. 

“Just for a little. Let me sleep off what I’m on.” Ronan knew this was a lie. Kavinsky had driven all the way here, and safety didn’t matter to this bastard, but Ronan would be lying if he said he hadn’t imagined this impossible asshole wrapped around a telephone pole more than once. Kavinsky could see he had won, and triumphantly slid into Gansy’s bed, pulling Ronan in after him. 

Once they were in, Kavinsky seemed to pass out immediately, and Ronan couldn’t help but wonder when the last time he’d slept was. He wondered if K ever felt safe enough to sleep. Ronan dozed off, and slept without dreaming, which was a relief. 

When he woke, it was because Kavinsky was rutting back against him. His cock throbbed, and he was momentarily paralyzed. He could hear Kavinsky’s harsh breathing, and wondered if he was still asleep. As his body returned to his control, Ronan slid a hand around to wrap around Kavinsky’s prick. Kavinsky turned his head around, and their lips met in a messy kiss. The wicked gleam in his eyes proved to Ronan that this had been no accident. 

Kavinsky rolled over face Ronan, licking up his neck and sucking bruises into his skin. Ronan grunted his frustration, and shoved K off his neck. Kavinsky laughed softly. 

“You still think you can keep tonight a secret, Princess?” In retaliation, Ronan began to pump Kavinsky’s shaft in earnest, and Kavinsky stopped talking to groan as gasp against Ronan’s neck. Ronan flipped K over, rubbing his dick along K’s crack as he pushed him against the bed. 

Kavinsky’s hips bucked, pushing back against Ronan’s dick over and over. Ronan let out a long groan as me came all across Kavinsky’s ass, and Gansy’s bed, and his own chest. Kavinsky followed almost immediately, quieter than the first time that night, his come soaking Gansy’s sheets. 

Ronan felt like he was shaking apart. He rolled off of Kavinsky. 

“Get out.” Kavinsky sits up, a bit unsteadily. 

“What? I get you off twice in one night, and your kicking me to the curve like a puppy who shit on the rug?” Ronan grabs Kavinsky and drags him up. 

“I don’t know what you’re trying to do,” Ronan snarls, “But you can’t replace him.” Kavinsky’s face hardens, his eyes closing off from Ronan. He jerks his arm out of Ronan’s grip. 

“With me or against me Lynch.” He snarls, as he fumbles with his strewn clothing. The words ring in Ronan’s head. Kavinsky had said it before, and yet he still texted Ronan when he was feeling horny and out of it. Ronan wondered how far he could push before K really meant what he said. 

Kavinsky hesitates in the doorway, and Ronan catches the look on his face for only a moment before he turns and leaves. It shatters a bit of Ronan, which is surprising, because Ronan didn’t think he had anything whole left to shatter. 

He turns back to Gansy’s bed, and feels a sick feeling crawl into his stomach. Fuck Kavinsky. Kavinsky’s just here to use Ronan. Ronan refuses to think that he might be the one doing the using. He refuses to think about the look on Kavinsky’s face. Instead, Ronan begins to clean up the mess they made.

**Author's Note:**

> In my opinion, Kavinsky really was in love with Ronan. He just was terrible at expressing it, and was too broken and toxic himself to deal with it in a healthy way. (Killing himself, making Ronan responsible, ect.) and I also believe that Ronan was probably a bit in love with Gansy, while simultaneously understanding that it would never work, and that Gansy is straight. I feel like this is something that could totally have happened in canon, between Ronan and Kavinsky's night in the forrest and the Fourth of July party.


End file.
